Pyramid Pulls 49ers Out of Ancient Era

It is 85 minutes before tip-off and Cal State Long Beach basketball coach Seth Greenberg is standing on the floor of the Pyramid, looking up, up, up at the bare-metal geodesic main frame that holds the thing up.

The design is early 21st Century.

ESPN Big Wednesday hoops, inside Biosphere.

“The ceiling’s the most amazing thing about the place,” Greenberg says, neck fully craned. “It looks like a huge Tinker Toy. You could have some action-packed thrills if you sent a few people to climb up in there.”

It is 65 minutes before tip-off and Don Dyer, executive director of the Pyramid, is standing on the concourse level, accepting handshakes, kisses and back slaps from gawking friends wandering into the building for the first time.

“Awesome,” someone tells him.

“Better than our wildest dreams,” says another.

“Congratulations. You got it open.”

“Are you happy?”

Dyer smiles, squeezes a hand and replies drolly, “Yeah, I’m lovely.”

Dyer and staff got it open by working 16-hour days all the way till D-Day--Opening Wednesday--”testing the lights, testing the seats, testing everything we know how to test.”

And now, the final exam, with hoopheads all over the country staying up late, eyewitness to any hitches or glitches the debut of the Pyramid may bring.

“We know we’re gonna have a game,” Dyer says. “And we know we’re gonna have a crowd.

“Now, we just hope we don’t break something.”

It is 45 minutes before tip-off and Dave O’Brien, Long Beach athletic director, is standing at courtside, but he should be dancing.

“The line! Did you see the line?” O’Brien says, bubbling and all but bursting at the seams.

“We actually had a line of people trying to get in tonight. Not a line trying to get out.”

A thousand strong, it must have been, in O’Brien’s estimation.

“I was out there at 6:15 (the game was to start at 9:10) and the line went from the Pyramid all the way to the business school,” O’Brien says. “Some of them said they got there at 1:30. One-thirty!”

O’Brien is overcome by a giggling fit.

“We have never had anybody wait for anything at Long Beach State,” he says.

And: “This is the first time in 20 years tickets have been scalped at Long Beach State.”

And: “I think we could have sold out twice as many, 10,000, if we had the seats. I’ve been saying ‘No’ for the last five days.”

The beechwood floor was painted and varnished, the hydraulically cantilevered seats lowered into place the way they were supposed to, the restrooms were fully functional, the electricity worked . . . and, still, the air was crackling with disbelief.

What was something this sleek, this high-tech, this nice doing on the property of Cal State Longing To Be?

All right, when is the PA announcement that tells everybody this has been an elaborate practical joke, hope you enjoyed it, will you now leave leave your seats, walk outside and cram your torsos uncomfortably one more time on those creaking wooden Gold Mine bleachers?

For awhile, Greenberg had to have wondered.

“A week ago,” Greenberg says, “I didn’t think they could pull this off. It was a mess out here. Amazing, really. The place was half-done. There were no seats here (Greenberg points to the stands behind the west basket), speakers were laying on the floor, upstairs was filthy.

“Now, it looks like we’ve been playing in the place for a year. Let me tell you, it took a great team effort to get this thing open on time.”

In truth, a bit of sleight of hand was involved. Everything that had to be ready in time for Wednesday night’s Long Beach-Detroit Mercy basketball game--court, stands, the bare necessities--got done. Everything that could wait--the coaches offices and exercise rooms under the seats, permanent concession stands--were pushed back on the docket.

The 5,000 fans present may not have known it, but behind the basketball facade in front of them were dozens of unpainted walls, bare cement and piles of sawdust.

“We had 500 people working on this building today,” O’Brien says. “People were sweeping, painting, spackling and dusting. It almost looked like they were working in fast motion, fast-forward.”

According to Dyer, “everything essentially went down to the wire. Whatever needed to be done Wednesday by 9 got done. What isn’t done can’t be seen. But on television, people will see a full house and a professional facility.”

It all went off, smooth as smooth can be, although O’Brien was still mopping a moist brow 30 minutes before tip-off.

“We have to turn off the lights for the pregame laser show,” O’Brien said, “and we still have to find out if the lights are going to come back on.”

The lights came back on, and, more than that, they stayed on.

If Long Beach doesn’t watch out, this Pyramid thing is going to run its reputation right into the ground.